Aftershock

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John stood in the kitchen, his mouth open and his face beet red. He couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. He sighed and raked a shaky hand through his hair. "Sherlock," John called softly, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall to the shut door. He tried the knob, but it was locked. "Sherlock, open the door." There was no response. "Sherlock, please. Open the door."

"John, just go away," came the small voice from inside the room. John sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'm not moving from this spot. Open the door."

Sherlock was laying on the bed, hugging his pillow tightly. He felt like a child who was about to get scolded. He just felt utterly embarrassed. He was certain John would leave now. John was already mad at him for...God knows what, and now Sherlock had just crossed a line it seemed neither of them were completely ready for. He let his heart rule his head, and it didn't end well.

A few seconds later, John entered the bedroom. "You picked the lock," Sherlock mumbled, facing the wall.

"You wouldn't open the door," John said as he sat down on Sherlock's bed. "Sherlock, look at me," John said softly. Sherlock made no effort to move. John furrowed his brows. "Look at me," he demanded. Sherlock jumped slightly and slowly rolled over to face John.

"What do you want, John?" He asked, his voice monotone but still sounding hurt.

John sighed. "I wanted to talk to you earlier but you completely blew me off," he said, his voice clipped. Sherlock looked at him.

"Is that why you're mad?" He scoffed. "I do that all the time, why is this time any different?"

John inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. "You are making this very difficult, Sherlock."

Sherlock pouted and held the pillow closer. "I figure me acting like this will make it easier for you to tell me."

John stared. "How in the world is acting like a sod making this easier?"

Sherlock sat up and looked at him. "John, I know what you wanted to say. You don't want to pursue a relationship with me because you are concerned how people would see you. You want to continue concealing your feelings, whatever they are. And it's fine. I get it." He flopped back down on the bed. "Let's just pretend it never happened. It was a mistake."

John looked at Sherlock. "You're an absolute idiot." He grabbed Sherlock by the shirt and pulled him in to a sitting position and pressed his lips to Sherlock's, his breathing heavy as he kissed him deeply.

Sherlock's eyes widened, his pulse quickened.

John pulled back a few seconds later. "Tell me again what I wanted to say to you," he said, his voice low. Sherlock opened his mouth, but no sound came out. John smirked. "I managed to render Sherlock Holmes speechless. I suppose I get to actually talk now." He cleared his throat. "I want to be with you, Sherlock. I want us to be...us. I want us to be together." He smiled softly. "Even though you are the biggest sod I have met in my entire life."

Sherlock stared at John, still not quite understanding. "Why would you want to be with me?"

John blushed. "Because...I love you."

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